The View From Up Here
by A.Boleyn
Summary: DL Independence Day fun. Danny and Lindsay’s relationship is much like that of a Ferris wheel ride – sometimes a little shaky, tinged with hesitation and exhilaration but ultimately they’ll be on top of the world. Final ch. up July30th
1. Chapter 1

**The View From Up Here**

**Rating: K+  
Disclaimer: ** I do not claim ownership over D/L, just the story itself.  
**AN: ** Came from a 'vision' I had of Danny and Lindsay on a ferris wheel. Growing up showing animals at county fairs was also an inspiration - something I miss greatly. :) Will run about 5 chapters.

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**Chapter 1**

Damn Danny Messer for being so attractive. 

And damn this New York City traffic. It's the third of July, and the steaming pavement is like a giant pancake griddle. As we inch along, I wonder why drivers bother to honk in a situation like this. It's not like anyone can help it - we're all stuck in the same position. Back home, we only honked if we passed someone we knew, as a sort of 'hello'.

"This is insane," I grumble as I push the air conditioner up to create an icy blast, and fan myself with the Sports section of the _Times_. I've read it twice over, and filled Danny in on every play, score, and call.

"What, you never had traffic jams in Montana?" he asks, amused at my impatient antics. You can tell that he is New York born and raised. "No herds of cattle causing big back ups?"

I roll my eyes, but a grin spreads across my face anyway. We're on our way back from arresting a suspect; another case successfully closed. He's driving and I'm in the passenger seat. I just want to get back to the lab, but the traffic is at a complete standstill. A woman who looks at least eighty years old whizzes by us on a bike. Yeah, it's _that_ bad.

"We are civilized out there, you know," I say to Danny. "It's not like I drove to work on a John Deere."

"But I bet you had a pickup truck," he challenges. Okay, I'll give that to him.

"I learned to drive in an old Chevy pickup with 'Farm Use Only' spray painted on the back," I admitted. "I was ten when my dad took me out in the pasture and taught me about steering and shifting gears. My idea of 'clutch' has never been a handbag." We both laugh.

I take a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. Heavens, he's so attractive. I hate that I find him so attractive, because he's one of _those_ guys. You know, the kind that are not only attractive, but _know_ that they are? I can deal with that, but what's starting to worry me is the fact that sometimes I think my feelings for him go way deeper. No, they don't, it's just my imagination. I just have a little crush, it will fade when the novelty wears off. Mm-hmm. I keep telling myself that.

"So, what are you doing for the fourth of July?" Danny asks, raising an eyebrow in my direction, and jarring me out of my internal debate.

Now I'm embarrassed; I have no plans. I'm sure he has plans which involve longneck bottles and long-legged women. I have only been on one date since I moved here, and it was disastrous. Adam from the lab took me to the opera a few months ago. I went because I had nothing else to do, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings by turning him down. It went _so_ badly: we couldn't manage to keep up a conversation, he spilled his gin and tonic on my coat, and opera really isn't my thing. Both of us were thankful when Mac paged me to join the subway-surfer case. Adam and I agreed not to mention it again – to each other, or to our coworkers.

"Oh, I don't know yet," I shrug casually, as if I have so many offers that I simply can't decide.

"Well, what did you do back in Montana?"

"The Gallatin County Fair," I reply fondly. "My cousins and I showed our lambs there every summer."

"Lamb?" Danny mutters, looking out the windshield at a nearby Greek restaurant. "I could really go for a gyro right about now."

I reach across the seat to slap him. "Danny! That's mean!"

"Sorry, Little Bo Peep," he teases, chuckling as he dodges another one of my slaps. "Anyway, tell me about the fair."

"Oh, it was the best time," I gush, reminiscing as we scoot forward ten centimeters. "Showing our animals was just the beginning. It went on for about three days, and we ran wild all over the fairgrounds eating candy apples and paying games. All of us kids would sleep in the stalls at night, and someone always snuck in a jug of homemade watermelon wine."

"Watermelon _wine_?" he asks, both astounded and disgusted.

"It's lovely." I smile and close my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat. "And funnel cake… ummm." My imagination is taking me back there, the sights and sounds the wonderful smells. I can hear the animals stirring about in the straw, the pipe organs, and the people screaming on the rides. I remember the smell of fried vegetables and spun cotton candy, as the night sky lights up with thousands of bright colors.

Danny drums the steering wheel thoughtfully. We move another two inches.

"I'll miss that this year," I say wistfully, looking out the window as the cars begin to pick up speed. "I doubt there's anything like it in New York."

* * *

Finally back at the lab, I'm signing off on the last piece of paperwork from our case. It's just me – I had told Danny to go ahead home while I wrapped up. Now everything is complete, and I triumphantly slip the packet in Mac's inbox before stopping at the locker room.

I open up my locker and pull out my belongings, when Danny's head pops around the door.

"Hey, Montana," he says.

"Hey yourself," I respond, slightly startled. His voice sounds funny. "I thought you already left. What's up?"

"Look, I heard that the Franklin County fair is going on right now," he says awkwardly, rubbing his neck. He's so cute when he's all shy like this. "It's only about forty-five minutes from here. You wanna go tomorrow night?" He licks his lips and averts his eyes, another thing I find cute. "I mean, if you don't have other plans…" his voice trails off.

Whoa. Did he just ask me out? No, surely not - he's just being friendly.

"I didn't say I didn't have plans," I argue, trying to play it cool. Much to my horror, my voice cracks.

Danny holds up his hands innocently. "I didn't say you didn't. I'm just making a better offer." He winks. Lord help me. Down, girl.

I'm trying to appear nonchalant, but inside I am shrieking. "Sure, it sounds fun," I say calmly.

He grins, looking almost relieved. Am I that intimidating? "I'll pick you up at six, how's that?" he asks.

I nod. "Great, I'll see you then," I say. Danny vanishes as quickly as he appeared.

As I walk toward the elevator, I wonder how he happened to know about this fair that was going on. He hadn't mentioned it in the car, and he hardly seems like the type to follow such events. I turn on my heel and make a mad dash back to the office, where I settle myself in front of Danny's computer. Looking around to make sure no one sees me snooping, I open the internet browser and check the History file. I see that, indeed, he ran a search on Google for "NY fairs". Then he got directions to Franklin county from Mapquest.

Would he have done all that just for me?

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**A/N**: Chapter 2 coming soon. ;) 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **SO sorry for the delay! My computer crashed almost two weeks ago, and I was unable to upload the next chapters, even though they were already written. Finally, a new PC - and back to the story. I am just getting all of your kind reviews and getting back to you. I apologize again, and suggest you reread chapter 1 if you need a "refresher"!

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**Chapter 2 **

I spend three hours trying to decide what to wear.

It's the Fourth of July; and while most Americans are giving thanks for their freedom, I'm attempting to chose between a green shirt or a red one. It's silly, given that I don't have feelings for Danny, and he doesn't have feelings for me. This is just a friendly coworker thing. Whatever it is, now it's getting dangerously close to six o' clock.

Before hitting the shower, I send off a quick email to my friend Rebekah in Helena. She knows about my relationship with Danny – the ups, the downs, and every little moment in between. Now I tell her about his mysterious invitation, and what I found on his computer yesterday. _I don't know if he was just being friendly by asking me_, I type, _or if this is a DATE. I don't really want to go_.

After showering and drying my hair, I check my email and see that Rebekah has responded already: _You don't want to go? Liar! You know you want to. And it is definitely a date. Just have fun and be yourself! _

Easier said than done.

Now I'm in front of the bathroom mirror with my arm twisted around my head, applying eyeliner with acute precision, when the doorbell rings. I jump in surprise and stab myself in the eye, causing tears of pain to start flowing. Swearing, I run to the door, pausing only to glance at the clock and realize that Danny is fifteen minutes early.

I whip open the door, and there's Danny. He's wearing a t-shirt that is truly too tight for him. But oh, how I love those shirts that cling to him like plastic wrap. I say hello and curse myself for having fair skin – I'm quite sure that I'm blushing.

"Hey Mont—" he begins, then stops suddenly. He looks all concerned. "Are you crying?"

"Umm, no, I just poked my eye," I explain, in case he doesn't notice the big black streak across my eyelid. "Wait right here, I'll be ready in a minute," I call over my shoulder as I canter back to the bathroom. I press a cold washcloth to my eye for a moment, and then go through a mental checklist: teeth brushed, check. Perfume spritzed, check.

When I return to the living room once again, Danny smiles at me. It's a very sweet smile, a very innocent smile. Not the usual Danny Messer Smirk. I just can't read him sometimes: he's as complicated a person as my feelings for him are.

"Ready to go?" he asks me, reaching for the doorknob. I can't help thinking that he looks nervous. I'll have to find a way to get him to loosen up and see that I don't bite.

I nod as I grab my sunglasses and purse. "Let's go, cowboy!"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Fortunately, traffic this evening is nothing like it was yesterday. The lack of cars, coupled with the subtle light of the late-day sun, makes for a much more enjoyable ride. Before long, Danny and I are cruising past the city limits and well on our way to Franklin County.

At one point I see the fuel indicator light glowing on the dashboard, and Danny pulls into a gas station to fill up. While he is out at the pump, his cell phone rings from down between the seats. I groan, worrying that it might be Mac calling us in. That would completely ruin everything. I reach for the phone and flip it open, silently praying that it isn't him. It isn't – the screen is displaying a new test message from someone named "Robby":

_Can't believe u cancelled 4 a woman! _

Wait, so Danny already had plans? And he cancelled them just to go out with me? No, surely there's another reason. Maybe he didn't want to go with Robby, and is using me as his excuse? I'm going through the possibilities when I see Danny reach for the door handle, so I innocently and haphazardly toss his phone down.

Once we are back on the highway, I attempt to drum up conversation. Perhaps it will soothe both of our nerves.

"So," I begin. "Did you ever go to the fair as a kid?"

Danny makes a face, and I can't quite tell if it's a grimace or a sneer. "Nah," he mutters. "We weren't that kinda family."

I consider for a moment asking him exactly what "kinda" family they were, but decide to just let it go. Instead, we chit-chat about work: how no one could quite bring themselves to eat the "Death by Chocolate" cake Hammerback brought in (I know he was a chef, but he could have chosen a dish with a less sinister name); how Mac and Stella always seem to leave the lab at the same time; about the cool new equipment we just got in.

Time flies with Danny – it always does. According to the map, we are now just fifteen minutes from the fairgrounds. In less than one hour, the landscape we traveled has gone from urban to suburban to rural. My heart lifts at the sight of fields, fences, and wide open spaces. I roll down my window and start breathing in the air.

"Uhh, Montana… what are you doing?" Danny asks. "Are you feeling sick?"

"Fresh country air," I purr, huffing in the scent of sweet honeysuckle, fresh-cut hay, and a trace of something that may very well be a bovine by-product. "No exhaust fumes."

He shakes his head and grins. "Smells like cow crap to me."

Before long I spot a Ferris wheel over the top of the trees, a sign that we have found the Franklin County fairgrounds at last. "Danny! Look!" I point out. "There it is!"

I forget momentarily that I should try to be mature and cool to impress the guy sitting next to me. Instead, I unbuckle my seat belt and lean towards the windshield to get a better view. We turn off onto a gravel road, and I see all the familiar sights: the multi-colored tents, the tall spinning rides, the barns, and the masses of people. _Just like back home, I think._ Danny finds a parking spot in the grass, and we climb out of the car and head toward the ticket booth.

"Come on," I say, grabbing his arm. "Let me show you how country folks have fun."

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**A/N: ** Chapter 3 will come tomorrow. ;) 


	3. Chapter 3

**Now I'm caught up - chapter 4 will be here shortly. ;)**

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** Chapter 3**

Danny pays our way through the gate, and we each receive a blue stamp on our hand as proof of admittance. It's not very crowded inside – the families with children have gone home to backyard barbecues and patriotic celebrations. What sunlight remains is warm and pleasant, draping over our bodies like bed linens fresh from the dryer. A soft breeze cools the skin and carries the scents of food and fresh produce from all directions. Looking at the man beside me, I decide that this evening couldn't be more perfect. 

"Alright, Montana," Danny says, lightly touching my back. Even the slightest touch from him causes my heart to quicken. "Where to?"

"Let's hit the midway," I suggest, referring to the main row of game booths and vendors that run through the center of the fairgrounds.

Walking along, we pass a couple about our age who are holding hands as they stroll along blissfully. Seeing them causes my own palm to itch with desire to meet Danny's. I clinch my fist tightly to resist the temptation.

As we explore the midway, the first thing I spot is a row of enormous stuffed walrus toys. They are perched on a shelf under a tent; prizes for one of those water-gun games where you aim the stream of water at a target, which in turn moves a racehorse.

I start to laugh when I see the goofy-looking plush creatures. "Danny!" I say, tugging at his arm. "Danny, look!"

It takes him a minute – he looks confused – but then he finally grins. "My 30th birthday party," he mutters, and his cheeks turns slightly pink at the recollection.

The operator of the game is taunting people as they walk by, conning them into playing. "Hey Muscle Man!" he hoots at Danny. "One win and you get your pick of prizes! Win something for your pretty little girlfriend!"

Girlfriend? Whoa. But Danny doesn't bother correcting the man, and I wonder why. Maybe he is so flattered at being labeled "Muscle Man" (which he practically asks for in that tight shirt) that the 'girlfriend' thing doesn't register. I look at him pointedly with a silent challenge, and he raises an eyebrow.

"I dunno, Montana," he says warily, eying the seats which are quickly filling up with players. "I've never done this before."

"Do it," I urge him. "I've seen your proficiency scores, you have great aim." Boosting his ego always works. Before he can change his mind, I add "Come on, I want a walrus!" I fork over two dollars to the man, and he directs Danny to seat number eight. Two more people join, and then the operator instructs them to pick up their water guns. Danny readies his finger on the trigger, glancing back at me one more time. I give him a confident nod.

A bell sounds to signify the start of the race. I stand behind Danny, just over his shoulder, cheering him on. His aim is dead-on and unwavering, and he blows away the competition. When the buzzer sounds sixty seconds later, the operator shouts, "Number eight is the winner! Muscle Man!" He points to me. "Let's ask his lucky girlfriend what prize she wants."

"The walrus!" I say, beaming as I point to the giant symbol of the earliest days of our friendship.

The operator passes it to me over the booth. The walrus is huge – nearly as long as I am tall – and it's an atrocious shade of bright purple with green trim and felt tusks.

"Thank you, Danny," I tell him, laughing. "You're my hero."

"If only I had known it was that easy to impress you," he smiles, looking terribly pleased with himself.

A decadent scent is wafting our way, and I spot a nearby concession stand.

"Funnel cake," I say suddenly, shoving the walrus towards Danny as he stumbles back onto a bench. I'm on a mission. "Hold him."

I stand in line and order my funnel cake the way I always did back home – with cherry topping and confectioner's sugar. Then I carry my plate over to join Danny on the bench, where I offer to share.

He wrinkles up his nose. "What is it, exactly?" he asks, examining the squiggly lumps on my plate.

"Just fried dough," I explain.

"It looks like worms."

"Well then, it's not like you've never eaten worms before," I remind him. I can see his curiosity rising and his resolve melting. "Come on, just try it," I goad.

"I can't reach it," he mumbles, both of his arms too occupied with supporting the walrus. "Feed it to me."

I hesitate. Feed it to him? Is he for real? So I tear off a small piece, and hold it up to his mouth. First I feel his lips, warm and soft and positively electrified, brush my fingertips. The very tip of his tongue grazes my finger slightly as he takes the sticky morsel. I lower my arm, brushing my hand against his chin, and the prickly sensation from his stubble sends a burning tingle through my entire body. It's the most erotic think that's happened to me in… too long.

I feel hot and a little faint. Danny, however, seems hardly moved. He just chews thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Well?" I finally prompt, having gathered my composure.

"Sure beats fried spiders," he teases with a wicked smile.

Between the two of us, we polish off the funnel cake quickly. Before we rise, Danny reaches over and brushes a spot of powdered sugar off my chin. Who knew carnival food could be such a turn on? I hide a smile as I study the map of the fairgrounds we were provided with.

"Well, the livestock barns close soon – let's go check them out!" I say enthusiastically.

Danny instantly turns up his nose, and I in turn roll my eyes. "This was your idea, City Boy." I take the stuffed animal from his grasp. "I'll even carry the walrus."

The livestock barns are almost completely empty of people; save the owners who are busy forking hay, filling water buckets, and scooping feed. I stop at a pen of Dorset sheep, admiring their long black faces and beady eyes. One of the ewes stares at Danny with a blank expression that is so typical of the species, and then lets out a plaintive "baa".

"I think she likes you," I joke, reaching out to touch her soft head. "She reminds me of Sally, the first ewe I ever showed in 4-H."

"So this is where cotton comes from?" asks Danny, looking nonplussed.

I suppress a snicker. "Wool," I correct him as we move on down the aisle. "Cotton comes from a plant."

For the next half hour, Danny and I weave through the halls of the livestock barns. We admire the Suffolks and Southdowns; Guernseys and Charolais; Nubians and Toggenburgs. I don't bother trying to drag Danny into the pig exhibit – I myself would feel a little uneasy in there, thinking of all the wound reconstructions I have done at work.

Once outside the barns, I notice the western sky has turned a pinkish tint, not unlike that of cotton candy. Daylight is almost gone.

"Where should we go next?" I ask Danny, still clutching my prize.

"My turn to pick," he replies, slinging his arm around my shoulder to steer me back toward the midway. His arm feels so comfortable around me, like it's what I've been missing all these years. "I know just the place."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks as always for the many reviews - they are enjoyable to read! Here's the next-to-last installment...  


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**Chapter 4 **

"I'm not getting on that thing!"

I'm standing here gazing up at the towering steel monstrosity that is otherwise known as a Ferris wheel. This was Danny's big idea, and I'm not liking it one bit. I haven't been on one of these multi-colored contraptions since I was sixteen; when my cousin Leroy rocked the seat until I nearly lost my  
lunch onto dozens of innocent fairgoers below. Now Danny and I stand in its shadow, engaging in a verbal tug-of-war.

"But you said you liked rides," Danny grumbles, his hands on his hips. He looks cute when he pouts; but I refuse to let this fact sway my decision. I wave my hand impatiently in the direction of the less-threatening kiddie rides.

"I was talking about those ladybugs that hover three feet off the ground," I argue stubbornly. "I'm not comfortable getting on something that high, and that... portable." I glance nervously at the wheeled base of the ride, which allows it to travel from fairground to fairground all summer. It appears shaky and unstable at best.

"Argh, come on, Montana! It's perfectly safe," Danny pleads. "Look at all the people lining up." He looks adorably hopeful, so after contemplating it for a moment, I cave in and agree to ride. I suppose there are worse situations in life than being suspended several stories in the air with Danny Messer.

"Okay, okay, I'll get on," I relent with a groan. "But just one time," I add firmly as we get in line.

Danny looks pleasantly relieved, and he squeezes my arm. "Don't worry, we'll keep you safe," he promises, referring to himself and the stuffed walrus I am still cradling.

Something peculiar happens as we are waiting in line. We're next to board when Danny suddenly stops me, and allows the elderly couple behind us to get on instead. "We'll take the next one," he says, waving them on ahead. I study him curiously as I wonder what's up his sleeve, but his expression conveys nothing. Why is he being so particular about which seat we sit in? I just shrug, and then the operator points us to the next seat being lowered to the gate. 

Danny climbs in first and I follow him, squeezing Mr. Walrus down on the floor between our feet. Immediately I search for a seatbelt but fail to locate one. Instead, I grasp the handlebar with my right hand and Danny's forearm with my left. He smiles, despite the fact that my vise-grip is most likely uncomfortable. The motor rumbles underneath us and we begin to rise, then stop after a few feet to allow more passengers to board. This routine continues several more times until each boxy seat is occupied. Then we pick up speed, moving steadily and smoothly without pause. In order to remain calm, I simply avoid looking down.

Danny casually places his arm on the back of our seat, just barely touching my shoulders. Ahhh - smooth, Romeo! It's just enough to momentarily distract me from the butterflies in my stomach.

"What a view, eh?" he asks. "You can see for miles."

I shake my head. "I'm not looking any farther than my own lap right now," I respond. Going up is rather exhilarating, but as we get close to the highest point my stomach flip-flops in expectation of the initial descent. This is perhaps the most frightening stage of the ride.

"I know just how to make you relax," Danny speaks up, and my imagination instantly produces unmentionable thoughts. He fumbles under our seat for a moment, then produces a brown paper bag from which he pulls two plastic cups and a glass bottle.

"What the --?" I ask, incredibly bewildered. Was this why he wanted us in a particular seat? Had he  
stashed this here earlier? He passes me the bottle proudly, and I glance at the label as I accept it. I grin, realizing that it's watermelon wine.

"Where did you find this in New York?" Not only am I astonished, but I'm also touched that he remembered such a minute detail from our conversation yesterday.

"A little farmer's market in Queens," he beams proudly as he starts filling the cups. "I had to ask six different vendors before I found it."

"And how'd you get it here?" I stutter, still shocked. Why would he go to such trouble for me?

"Not for you to worry about, Montana," he winks, passing me a cup. He then fills one for himself, and holds it up in a celebratory toast. "Here's to doing it like country folk," he says.

"Cheers!" I tap my cup with his. We each take a sip, and I start to laugh at the face Danny makes. His lips are pursed and his nose wrinkles up. "You don't like it?" I ask. Already the tart liquid has created a warm buzz which begins to spread right down to my toes.

"I'm more of a Heineken guy," he admits, and I nearly expect him to yank a six-pack out from under the seat. He pours the wine from his glass into mine.

I'm beginning to enjoy myself, just a bit. Danny's little surprise made me forget my fears. The breeze whips through my hair as we circle up and down, and I enjoy being in such close proximity to him.

"Thank you, Danny," I say sincerely, sipping more wine. "This is just what I needed... a taste of home. It's bringing back some great memories." For the next several minutes, I tell him more about the fairs I went to as a kid.

"Were you ever Apple Butter Queen or something like that?" he asks with a teasing sneer.

"No," I laugh. "But my neighbor was the reigning Dairy Princess for two years in a row."

We chuckle, and are quiet again for a few moments before Danny speaks up. "If you miss it so much, why did you leave?" he asks simply. Little does he know how complicated it is.

"I just needed change," I explain. "In Montana, there wasn't a whole lot of crime… not serious crime, anyway. I didn't feel like I made a difference. I thought moving here and working on more high-profile cases would satisfy me, but here there is just so much crime. And the lab is so big… it's like I blend right into the woodwork."

Danny looks stunned. "Are you kidding me?" he asks. "You light up that  
whole place, Lindsay. I don't think any of us can imagine it there without you now. At least, I know I can't."

Wow.

His revelation leaves me breathless. My heart flutters, yet I know it's not the variation in altitude. I turn to look at him, searching his face for any hint of mocking or teasing. He holds my gaze without flinching or looking away. In that beautiful blue, I see only sincerity.

The next few seconds move in slow motion, as if our bodies are swimming through glue. Danny leans in towards me, and I lean in towards him. Our faces begin moving together, like two magnets intent on a single destination: each other. Just as I feel the warmth of his breath on my face, and my eyes slip shut in anticipation of bliss, the ride comes to a sudden, jerky stop.

I gasp in surprise, jolting back into my seat. Danny peers below to see what caused the abrupt pause. "They're unloading," he tells me as a handful riders are returned safely to terra firma. It's awkward between us now - picking up where we left off obviously isn't an option. We're the last seat to be unloaded, but it doesn't stop as we approach the gate. Instead, the wheel starts to increase speed. We are quickly moving upward once again, and I panic.

"Danny! He forgot us!" I cup my hands over my mouth and start yelling down at the operator. "Hey! Stop! Let us off!"

Danny grabs my hand, and his touch silences me. "Shhh, Montana, shhh," he soothes. "It's okay. Look, I asked him to do this."

I swerve around to stare at him. "What do you mean?" I demand. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you," Danny nods, looking at this watch. "We've got fifteen  
minutes."

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**A/N: Finale chapter will be up in a few days. )**  



	5. Chapter 5

**  
A/N: **Here's the final chapter - enjoy and thanks for your kind reviews. :)

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**Chapter 5  **

We're alone on this Ferris wheel, stranded at its highest point.

Darkness has settled, but the fairgrounds are still bright; shimmering with tiny lights in every color of the rainbow. The ride operator has gone off in search of something to drink - tucked in his back pocket was the twenty dollar bill that Danny had snuck him when we boarded. Twenty bucks in exchange for fifteen minutes alone with me.

Despite the sounds and movement below, I feel so very isolated. A light breeze, coupled with the nervous energy of the moment, leaves me feeling chilled. I shiver, unsure if it's from excitement or fear. It occurs to me that it's probably a combination of the two. Danny is drumming his fingers on the handrail, as if waiting for an opportune time to explain himself. Rather than wait, I gather my courage and go in search of the answers I am seeking.

"Danny," I begin quietly. "Why did you bring me here?"

He stares at me, to the point where I feel uncomfortable. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" he asks, shaking his head.

I consider everything, trying to put the puzzle pieces together: the conversation in the car yesterday, the subsequent invitation, the text message, the wine. Now this. Everything is falling into place the way I want, yet I remain apprehensive. So many things could go wrong, and fear still clings to me.

Danny takes a deep breath, then begins to talk. I've never seen him this unsure of himself. "I've been wanting to get you alone, get you away from the lab, for awhile now. So, yesterday I got an idea after listening to you talk about those fairs you went to as a kid. You just glowed when you talked about it, and I wanted to see more of that side of you. So I did some detective work and found out about this little shindig." He smirks as he gestures to the carnival below us. I don't mention that I know his Google history.

Danny continues, "This morning I went to the farmer's market, found the wine, and drove it up. I paid off ol' Ricardo down there after filling him in, and then headed back to the city to pick you up. I already had plans with friends for tonight, but I cancelled them."

"Just for me?" I ask tentatively.

"Just for you." He reaches over and, light as a feather, tenderly touches my cheek. "Now here we are."

My mind is reeling, so I simply focus on the stars just overhead. I feel as if I could reach out and pluck them down, like ripe peaches off of a tree. It strikes me as funny that the things in life we wish for the most, if they happen, never quite turn out precisely as we had fantasized. Because in my dreams of this moment with Danny, I was never this tongue-tied, nor this paralyzed.

"Say something, Montana," Danny prompts. I shift my attention back to him.

"I'm a little confused," I admit. "A little shocked." Danny smiles.

"_You're_ confused? What about me? My life was going along nicely," he says. "Then nine months ago you blew in here like a tornado and turned my world upside down. City Boy meets Country Girl -- and _BOOM_."

This validation that he feels the same way for me that I do for him - although thrilling - leaves me wary. I still can't let it sink in. I want to trust what's staring me right in the face, but I just can't comprehend it. What could he possibly find interesting in me: Lindsay Monroe, the dull, ordinary girl-next-door from the west? He could have any woman he wants. I shake my head in pure disbelief.

"But Danny," I argue. "You could have the most beautiful girl in all of New York." I wave my hand, gesturing towards the black beyond that encases us. Danny's arm tightens behind my back. He studies me intently for a few seconds before speaking.

"If she'll have me."

In this single instant, I realize that even if Danny had a third eyeball in the middle of his forehead and no teeth, I would still find him immensely attractive. These emotions coursing through my bloodstream leave me overwhelmed. It's exciting and terrifying; I am petrified with joy. My feelings change, moving in a cycle as my heart does back flips. I may think I want it to stop, but I truly don't.

It's exactly like this ride we are sitting on.

So I decide to once again relent. I swallow my fear, and let go. Take a risk. I'll take the ups and downs and the tremors, all in stride. I'm going to keep my eyes open, and not miss a single spot of beauty.

"Nothing would make her happier," I tell Danny truthfully, a tiny smile creeping across my face.

He licks his lips, and I swear he is blushing. "So, you want to give this a try?" he asks, his fingers brushing against my shoulder. "I mean, you and me. Us?"

_Us_. Was there ever a more perfect word in the English language? I nod. "Yeah, I really do."

As if on cue, like the world below is celebrating our transformation from "he and I" to "we", the fireworks begin. The first one, green and blue and sizzling hot, is shaped like a heart. Ironic.  
It's followed by the loud whistle and pop of a bottle rocket, which explodes into a thousand pink sparkles. Danny removes his arm from the back of our seat, and takes my hand in his as we watch. It seems like we've been up here forever, and I recall him mentioning that we had fifteen minutes before the operator brings us back down.

"How much longer do we have?" I shout, trying to reach him over the noise of the fireworks. His response is inaudible. "What!" I yell, even louder this time. Danny holds up seven fingers, and I nod. Just get me off this thing, I think. I just want to get down there and kiss the hell out of this man. 

But seven minutes is too long, and I'm going to do something about it. I reach over and hook my hand behind Danny's neck, gently guiding his face toward mine. Nothing can interrupt us this time.

"Since we can't talk," I say loudly as the night sky dances with red and purple confetti, "maybe we should do _this_ instead."

Just as our lips touch, I finally allow myself to look down. The view? Simply amazing.

* * *

**FIN.**  



End file.
